Heart's Ease
by bloodyromantic
Summary: Ilosovic Stayne and his consort-a lady-in-waiting of the White Court-find their new lives in Marmoreal complicated by the return of Alice Kingsley.  For back story, of which there is much, please see my profile.  My entry for LJ AiW Big Bang fic event.
1. Prologue

Author's note: Many thanks to the illustrious Spotzle for her beta work (including her patience with me when I threw a boatload of changes at her just before Thanksgiving).

Thanks also to Lewis Carroll and Tim Burton/Linda Woolverton for the characters who are the genesis of all this.

To see the other writers' entries (also my soundtrack for this story), go to livejournal dot com and look for aiw_big_bang/

**Prologue**

_And in today already walks tomorrow._

_~Samuel Taylor Coleridge_

No one would have dared point out to him that he owed his freedom and more than likely his very life to a lady-in-waiting of the White Court. But Ilosovic Stayne was both more self-aware and more pragmatic than he was generally given credit for, and he felt no shame in either fact, particularly since he was more than a little taken with the lady-in-waiting in question, and she, miraculously enough, returned the sentiment.

Adjusting to life at the White Court had proved somewhat demanding, despite the luxury and ease of castle life and the fact that he had been in sword training there for several years before Iracebeth had stolen the throne and taken him with her as her right-hand man. He didn't much care if residents of the castle trusted him—for one thing, he found amusement and freedom in the certainty that many of them did not—and he always been something of a loner, so their company was not something he craved. But leaving the castle grounds for any reason was a poor option as of late, as Underlanders of both parties—for and against Iracebeth—were still prone to attack not only him but also his lady, and that level of restriction was hard for him to accept.

Finding something worthwhile to do with his days could be a dilemma, as his lady love had court duties, and additionally was known to become testy if he spent too much time provoking her. He had had no official capacity in the castle ranks until recently, and he now held a position as sometime administrator at the Red Castle as it was converted into a meeting place for all of Underland—not exactly what he had trained for, although he did show a certain skill for management, to the surprise of no one more than himself.

And then, of course, there was the unending challenge of attempting to maintain a civil relationship with Tarrant Hightopp, who seemed to be everywhere at all times. His main consolation there was knowing the Hatter was having an equally difficult time with that task.

Still, the castle was beautiful, the grounds lush and expansive and pleasant to wander, Casiphia Rhoswen apparently ideally suited to be his lady—something he had certainly never expected to find and especially not among the members of the White Court, Iracebeth was now deceased and no longer plaguing his life, and he was alive and healthy and experiencing no end of astonishments. Casiphia, for instance, was from a family that never ceased to surprise, and he never failed to enjoy the fact that she now carried the small Derringer her mother had brought back from the world above on one of her own adventures.

Good and ill aspects notwithstanding, this state of limbo was one Stayne realized was never destined to last, knowing, as he did, that it was inevitable one day the Queen's Champion would return.


	2. Arrival and Departure

**Chapter 1: Arrival and Departure**

_Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones,  
as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire._

_~François de La Rouchefoucauld_

Casiphia, always slow to awaken, didn't realize at first that her arm was lying on the down comforter rather than across the body of Ilosovic Stayne. This was not unusual, as he was habitually an earlier riser than she, but as she sat up and looked around the room, she could feel an odd sort of electricity in the air, and surely that was more than the normal number of footsteps and voices passing by the suite's outer door.

She slipped out of bed and wrapped herself in a dressing gown, then threw open a window to let in the fresh spring air and sat to begin plaiting her brown hair into a more respectable braid than the halo of unruliness she had awakened with. But no sooner had she started this process than she heard the outer door of the suite complaining as it was thrown open, and Stayne stalked into the bedroom, one hand raking his black curls into disarray.

With no prelude he said, "Good, you're awake."

"What on earth?" Casiphia said, bemused.

"Something is happening," he said. "I don't know if it's something good or bad, but it's got the castle in an uproar, and I think we had best hie ourselves downstairs and determine what it is, in case we need to be prepared for another upheaval."

Wordlessly, Casiphia handed him the hairbrush.

"That bad?" he said with a quirk of a smile at one corner of his mouth.

As soon as he restored his hair to order and Casiphia had dressed herself hastily in a simple gown, they made their way down the wide marble corridor of the courtiers' wing, where they were startled by the sight of Tarrant Hightopp cavorting down the hall. As he reached the couple, he seized Casiphia's hands and spun her around in an impromptu dance, and then threw his arms around Stayne in a tremendous bear hug. They stared after him, gobsmacked, as he capered on his way.

"You two are better friends than I realized," Casiphia said.

"Better than I realized myself," Stayne said. "What in the name of the Oraculum could have brought that on?"

Casiphia's jaw dropped. "Do you think—?"

"Think—oh, you think Alice is back? Almost a year to the day after Frabjous Day, that would be appropriate."

"When better?" Casiphia said. "Oh—this is splendid for Mirana—but what about you?"

Stayne sagged against the wall. "I truly have no hard feelings for her, aside from her killing the Jabberwock when I would have liked to have done so to punish it for taking my eye. But convincing Alice of that fact, when I so utterly botched my attempt to find out if she was someone who could be recruited for the resistance, will no doubt be another matter altogether."

"I will do what I can to show her that you are one of us now," Casiphia said. "Which you are. Don't protest. And surely the fact that Mirana trusts you to be part of her household will help convince her."

"I wish you luck of it. Alice saw the worst side of me and I know it's going to be a challenge for her to overcome the image of a bloodthirsty traitor who cared nothing for the well-being of Underland."

Casiphia tilted her head up to fix Ilosovic's blue gaze with her own gray one. "From all that I've seen, Alice Kingsley is a practical and reasonable young woman. If Mirana and the court and even Tarrant can accept your presence here, then I am certain Alice will be able to as well."

Ilosovic took advantage of her proximity to bestow a quick kiss upon Casiphia's lips. "My love, your unwavering faith in me is treasured and probably more than I deserve. And for that I thank you."

"I will always be at your side. Armed, if need be," Casiphia said, giving him a brief hug around his waist. He dropped his cheek on top of her head, and they held each other for a moment, before they set off to discover what all the commotion was about.

Indeed Alice had returned to Underland, appearing early that morning exiting the forest after arriving via rabbit hole, walking undefended and unthreatened up to the White Castle, where guards immediately let down the drawbridge and greeted her without hesitation.

Now Alice and Mirana were meandering through the castle gardens, excitedly telling each other of the happenings of the past year. Servants were all but skipping through the hallways as they prepared a suite for the Champion's stay, and rumors were rampant of feasts and balls to welcome her.

Judging by the scraps of ribbon and silk petals leading down one hallway, the Hatter was frantically toiling in his workshop to create some perfect finery for the woman for whose return he had been hoping for the past year. Whether or not this woman was completely aware of the effect she had on him was yet to be determined, but it seemed that this wouldn't be a secret from her for long.

Stayne, however, was reluctant to be part of the merrymaking.

"I don't think I should be here while Alice is settling in," he told Casiphia as they returned to their quarters. "She doesn't want to see me and I would avoid that awkwardness as long as I can. And since I'm supposed to be the administrator of the Red Castle, this seems as good a time as any to pay it a visit."

"Then I will come with you," Casiphia said.

"Oh, love. You mustn't. Mirana needs you to fulfill your role as her lady-in-waiting, and Alice will be far more likely to accept you if she becomes acquainted with you as a courtier, rather than as my consort. Trust me, making an enemy of that one does not tend to advance one's position."

Casiphia couldn't argue the point, much as she wished to. "I will count the moments till you return. And although that is merely an expression," she added glumly, "I just may."


	3. Common Ground

**Chapter 2: Common Ground**

_[E]very saint has a past and every sinner has a future._

_~Oscar Wilde_

The next day, Alice told the story of her adventures during her absence from Underland while courtiers gathered about her and Mirana in the queen's favorite sitting room. All enjoyed a constant refreshing of treats and tea, with Tarrant repeatedly bringing Alice fresh cups of Earl Grey—which she didn't seem to realize, so involved was she in the telling of her tale—and gazing at her as though she were Yule itself.

"I spent the better part of the year in China," Alice explained. "It is a glorious place, and so unlike England, and I loved traveling about and meeting traders and townspeople and learning what I could of the language.

"But there are practices in the shipping trade that I cannot condone—the selling of opium to the Chinese, in particular—and eventually I came to realize that while I loved the adventure, trade is not where my heart lies, and where I really wanted to be after a while was home. And this—this is home."

At this, Mirana smiled and took Alice's hand and squeezed it.

"What have you told your family?" one of the courtiers asked.

"That's the difficult part," Alice said with a frown. "For now, they, and Lord Ascot as well, know only that I've gone off on another adventure. Should I decide to stay here—" glances ricocheted about the room at this—" I suppose I will need to make a visit home to tell them. Or send a letter. I don't know quite what I will say, however, without them thinking I have gone completely off my head."

She brightened for a moment. "But Lord Ascot practically knows. I told him a bit of my adventures down the rabbit hole, and of the people I met there, and he encouraged me to return and further my friendships with all of you." Tarrant looked especially pleased to hear this.

The afternoon provided a lovely distraction for Casiphia, and dinner was was a festive affair with special dishes of all sorts. Afterwards the queen and her ladies found themselves regaling Alice with tales of court life, as they gathered in one of the less formal sitting rooms. At one point Mirana removed her crown and placed it on Alice's blonde head, where it immediately slid off. Much merriment ensued as the ladies-in-waiting passed the crown from one to the other, trying it on and laughing as it refused to stay on any head but Mirana's.

But afterwards, Casiphia was saddened more than she would have expected by the absence of her usual companion. Folding herself into a wing-back chair by a window that overlooked the terrace that ran alongside their quarters, she opened a detective novel and did her best to lose herself in its complicated plot.

Before long a tendril of gray mist meandered through the window, resolving itself into a striped form with luminous blue-green eyes. The Cheshire Cat drifted over Casiphia's shoulder to see what she was doing, there to find her ostensibly reading, but more accurately staring out the window at the dark distance.

"Pining away for your man?" came the silky inquiry, underlain with his usual insinuating purr.

Casiphia didn't look up, but lifted the book as if she were preparing to throw it at Chessur. Then she stopped herself and heaved a sigh.

"I would argue the point, but that is precisely what I am doing and there is no sense in pretending otherwise. I am not accustomed to missing someone so much."

"Then let me distract you," Chess offered. "I can't leave you here to languish long after midnight, can I?"

He offered his neck for a scratch and shared a few bits of gossip he had recently gleaned from his wanderings about Underland until Casiphia's eyes began to droop. When at last she fell asleep, curled against the arm of the chair, he stretched out along its back and slept there with her, rumbling quietly in his throat as he slumbered.

The next day began with the entire court at breakfast, along with many of Alice's friends from her last foray into Underland. Tarrant Hightopp, Mallymkum, the Tweedles (shoving each other discreetly as they argued about crumpets versus toast), and Chessur took turns asking Alice about her travels, which she valiantly tried to answer in order.

Casiphia did her best to eat breakfast, grateful to be seated next to her friend Rosalba on one side, making the seat at her left less painful in its emptiness.

"Really, this is quite exciting," Rosalba said. "I expect there to be a splendid party before long. And maybe Alice really will stay this time."

"If only my end of things were slightly less complicated." Casiphia regarded a scone morosely.

"It will all be fine," Rosalba reassured her. "Just wait and see."

Afterwards, as Casiphia was leaving the dining hall, she felt a hand at her elbow and looked down to see Alice.

"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?" Alice said.

"Not at all," Casiphia replied, "As I've been expecting that you would have some. Come, let's walk in the gardens while we talk."

The two made their way through the white marble corridors and outside to one of the formal gardens adjacent to the castle. New blossoms and young grass burst forth exuberantly, massing in bright counterpoint to the white marble walls.

"I'm doing my best to be polite," Alice said, "so forgive me if I overstep. But what on earth led you to request that Mirana pardon Iracebeth and Ilosovic Stayne?"

"Ah, Mirana has told you something of our story, I see. Well, I formally requested they be pardoned because it was the right thing to do," Casiphia said. "Ilosovic and I had become acquainted a short time before, and I believed that their exile was neither just nor merciful, not given the entire story, which Mirana knew full well. If we are not merciful, we are not living up to our mission here to care for others, are we?"

She bent and plucked a bright pink buttercup, which she began to peel apart. "Of course my mercy does stop short of the point where someone tries to kill me or my loved ones," she added acerbically.

"What on earth?" Alice said. "Who tried to kill you?"

"My former fiance. Rather, he found some enemies of Ilosovic's, which I suppose wasn't so hard to do, admittedly, and encouraged them to attack us as we were traveling back to Marmoreal from my parents' house. Luckily Oran had first gone to my father with this idea, and after Papa met Ilosovic and decided he was a respectable match for me after all, he sent me home with a Derringer."

"Oh!" Alice's eyes widened. "You're the lady-in-waiting with the gun!"

Casiphia scattered the buttercup's sundered petals over the grass ahead of her. "My goodness, you have gotten quite the taste of court gossip in a short period of time. Although I must say I prefer my current reputation to that of being the lady-in-waiting who threw over the man she was to marry, as it was for many years before this."

Alice turned to her. "Did you know? I too refused to marry the man my family had chosen for me—I simply couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with Hamish Ascot, and in such an, er, intimate fashion, even though I've known him for years."

"I do hope he didn't try to have you and your new consort killed out of jealousy and old bitterness," Casiphia said.

"It's awfully hard to imagine Hamish doing such a thing. Although you must have felt the same way about Oran."

"I should have realized he was reaching that stage when it got back to me that he was publicly saying unpleasant things about Ilosovic and me. Such as how he wanted to call us Beauty and the Beast, but he wasn't sure which of us was the Beauty. Oh, and calling us Reckless and Ruthless, which was quite uncharacteristically clever of him, I thought."

"Did you expect him to be so jealous?"

"Neither so jealous nor so creative. A certain blandness and indifference had always been his defining characteristic. Although I think the real insult was to his pride, and that was the real spur to his plans of vengeance."

"Your parents supported your initial decision?"

"Not at first, but they came to realize quickly that there were good reasons I did not care to ally my life with that young man's, reasons they understood. And how right I turned out to be," she sighed.

"You still carry the gun," Alice said.

"That incident made me realize how many enemies Ilosovic and I might have, and for how many different reasons. I would rather feel safe than worry constantly about attacks, and besides, Henrietta and I have become quite good companions."

"Henrietta? That would be—"

"Yes, that would be the gun," Casiphia broke in with a laugh. "She was my mother's—a story I shall have to tell you someday—but I don't believe she ever named the poor thing." She hitched up her skirt to show Alice the small Derringer in its white leather holster around her thigh. "Ilosovic will be disappointed he missed me showing her off, he always seems to enjoy that."

"It must be dreadfully hard to live always being prepared for someone to attack."

"After ten years of being essentially under siege, you would be surprised at what you are able to accept," Casiphia said. "I won't deny that it's all played merry havoc with my peace of mind; I still have nightmares and I'm likely to jump out of my skin at a sudden noise. On the positive side, I used to have trouble with Chessur and Thackery and even Ilosovic jumping out of nowhere to surprise me, but there was much less of that once I began shrieking and casting about for whatever I could find to defend myself."

"I would imagine so," Alice said, amused despite herself.

"And now you know my story, or at least the relevant parts. I could tell you about growing up in the old castle, but Rosalba or Elgin or any of the other courtiers could do the same. Oh, if you were wondering, yes, all the courtiers have names that mean some aspect of 'white.' Courtier is a hereditary position, and that was themselves fashion among our parents during the span of time when we were born. Can you imagine?"

"I'm still curious about you and the Knave," Alice said. "Does it not bother you, the terrible things you know he's done?"

Casiphia paused and looked at Alice somberly. "Haven't we all done things that were less than noble, for reasons that seemed proper at the time, that we regretted for years afterwards? He has been nothing but honorable towards me and mine, and he has done me many a good turn while asking for nothing."

"I suppose," Alice said slowly. "But I fear it will take me a while to look at that man without anger and ill will. He was horrible to me and he lied and he made my predicament in Saluzen Grum so much worse than it needed to be. I respect that you and Mirana have come to see him differently, and I don't want to disregard your judgment. But please forgive me if I can't accept him the way you have come to."

"Dear, I understand," Casiphia said. "I know your experiences with Ilosovic have been limited and not of the most favorable kind. I do ask you to try to understand him, but I accept that you cannot control the amount of time that may take. Perhaps one day the two of you can talk about all that transpired during that time."

"Possibly," said Alice. "But I am not going to add that to my calendar any time soon. I'm agreeable enough to spending time with you, and maybe that will help, but I will not make any promises."

"I can ask no more than that," Casiphia said gravely. "But I do ask you to remember that you like to believe impossible things, and perhaps this is one of them."

* * *

Casiphia was expecting to sleep yet another night in her wing-back chair, which wasn't so uncomfortable, really, even if she did end up with an insistent crick in her neck after doing so. Chessur didn't make an appearance that night, so it was longer before she was able to let her embroidery hoop fall into her lap (knowing that she was working on the white silk cravat as a gift for Ilosovic made her feel as though he were a bit closer) and drift into sleep.

And thus she hadn't been asleep long and roused quickly when she felt the hand at the back of her head, another in her hair, and the kiss on her lips.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, startled, dropping her voice quickly as she realized it was still deep night. "I thought you might be gone for days yet."

"I was prepared for that, but business matters are well in hand at Saluzen Grum, and I saw no point on putting off my return any longer," Stayne explained. "Yes, I will have to deal with the awkwardness of Alice's return sooner, but being back in your arms seemed a fair trade."

To underscore his point, he ran a line of kisses from her ear to her collarbone, and then to her shoulder as he unbuttoned her nightdress and began to push it aside. Casiphia helped to slide it out of the way, sighing deeply as Ilosovic's tongue flicked its way down her sternum, and then gasping as he nipped delicately at each pink nipple. Thrusting both hands into the silk of his hair, she gently but firmly held his head to her chest.

Finally she released him. "Your turn," she said, reaching down to tug at one of his boots.

"My dear, I don't think we have time for that," he said, unbuttoning his trousers to let his phallus spring free. Casiphia bit back a smile, seeing that he must have been uncomfortable indeed before that release.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the silken rug next to the window, her nightdress abandoned on the floor and her lover atop her with his shirt and trousers half-unbuttoned, doing her best to aid his entry despite the inconvenience of loose clothing. She laughed as he succeeded, and rather than respond with one of his customary acerbic comments, he groaned deeply and bit hard at the side of her neck.

Nothing filled her mind then, or his, except the need to be as close as they possibly could, and the surge they rode till their waves peaked near-simultaneously and they sank into each other's arms, warm and damp and utterly satisfied now that they were together again.

"Bed," Casiphia finally murmured sleepily. "It's not far. We should go there."

"Agreed," Ilosovic said. He got to his feet, threw off the clothing that still encumbered him and peeled off his eyepatch, then led his lover to the bed with him, there to sink into the down pillows and mattress and hold each other tight till morning.

Spring sunlight dappling their faces, through the bed curtains they had neglected to draw the night before, wakening the lovers. They gazed raptly at each other for a long moment, aware as always of the chance that had brought them together in the first place, and the fortune that allowed them still to be together.

Casiphia ran her forefinger along Stayne's lips, pausing with a catch of her breath when he caught it between his teeth for a moment, then slowly traced the scars that marked the left side of his face.

"Can you feel that?" she asked softly.

"Somewhat," he said. "I've noticed feeling coming back into the scars slowly over the last few years. Usually when I'm shaving, naturally."

A memory rose unbidden to his mind of a chill day atop a craggy mountain peak, the Jabberwock lunging at his face, the sudden, searing, indescribable pain and blood gushing through his fingers as he clasped his hands to his face, the fear that none of his guards would brave the creature to get him down from the precipice and to safety—although that fear, at least, was unfounded.

He chased that memory away, not so hard to do as Casiphia moved her touch to his ear and just below it, moving her fingertips down his neck.

"Ah, my dear. Perhaps I should go away more often," he said.

"Perhaps you should never have a thought like that again," was Casiphia's acidic response.


	4. Transposition

**Chapter 3: Transposition**

_Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he who finds himself, loses his misery.  
~ Matthew Arnold_

"Mirana certainly seems cheerful this morning," Ilosovic said, watching the queen flitting about the breakfast table, chattering with her subjects.

"She is so happy to have Alice back," Casiphia said. "And I am happy to see her so light-hearted. It has been such a long time."

"Jam, please?"

Casiphia started to pass him the jam pot, but was intercepted as Mirana wafted past and plucked it out of her hand.

"Remember, my dear, it's jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today!"

Ilosovic watched her depart and remarked, "She's gone quite mad, hasn't she?"

"Give it time," Casiphia said, handing him a dish of marmalade. "She never stays this silly for long."

"I have just had an uncomfortable realization," Stayne said, observing Tarrant buttering pieces of toast for Alice and handed them to her in rapid succession, while she blushed and looked down at her lap. "Is that how we appear?"

"Certainly not," Casiphia replied. "We're both considerably taller than they are, and you dress in far fewer colors."

She swallowed a giggle as Ilosovic gave her a narrowed-eye look.

Casiphia looked upwards, then in several other directions where Stayne was not. "Well, then...probably...yes. If not worse, because our initial courtship took place away from the castle, and we were not as shy with each other."

"How horrifying," he said. "I'd like to think I have more dignity than that. My apologies."

"No apologies necessary," Casiphia said, leaning over and flicking his earlobe with her tongue, and laughing at the glance he gave her. "And no need to worry about making those two uncomfortable, they haven't seen anything but each other since they entered the room. The rest of the room—well, there's nothing new here for them."

"The court must find no end of entertainment these days," he said.

"We were due for some frivolity. Are you not glad that you can provide it?"

Stayne grumbled and took a swig of tea as he looked down the long table. "Tarrant's tie bothers me. The ends open and close like the wings of a dragon-fly. And just look at his eyes—have you ever before seen them that shade of green?" Casiphia nearly choked on a bite of scone.

"No better than the rest of us, are you?" she said.

"I deserve some frivolity too," came the answer.

"I don't suppose I can argue that point," Casiphia said. "Nor would I deprive myself of the same. Luckily it doesn't seem that will ever be a problem."

They resumed dining, watching as Mirana, Tarrant, Mallymkun, and Nivens all strove to get Alice's attention, which meant trying to shoehorn words in around Tarrant's stream-of-consciousness commentary.

"So she came by rabbit hole this time?"

"So it seems," Casiphia said. "I can't imagine why anyone would travel that way rather than by looking glass. We all—the children living here when I was little—had our share of experiences with Pishsalver and Upelkuchen, and I have to say I'd as soon never partake of either again."

"I'm sure you did have some fun with that," Ilosovic said.

"Oh, yes," she said, "at least until we grew old enough that the grownups decided there ought to be less peeping into windows and abandoning of clothing that had become the wrong size.

"Being small was especially fun, though," she went on, "especially for a girl like me who was taller than all the boys from about the age of eight on. Even though dragonflies are terrifying when one is tiny, bread-and-butterflies won't let you lick their wings, and rocking horseflies will never let you ride them. I'm grateful that Bayard did give us rides."

"Ah. Bayard."

"Um, yes? Why do you sound so gloomy when you say his name?"

"Because he is someone I must admit I regret harming. Iracebeth and I both took advantage of his sense of duty and asked him to do so many things against his will."

"If you recall," Casiphia said, "Bayard was quite a good agent for the Resistance. I don't believe you managed to break his spirit in any real way."

"Nevertheless, he is someone to whom I owe an apology, if not amends that I cannot even imagine how to make."

"You should talk with him. Dogs forgive. That is their nature."

"And humans feel guilty when there is something to forgive them for," Stayne said.

"All the more reason you should talk to him. I feel I should apologize myself for using him as the messenger between us when you were still at the Red Castle."

"But keeping him from his wife and pups. I didn't realize then what that meant, how that must have felt," he said.

"Then tell him that. Dogs also understand."

"You realize I deplore apologizing."

"As opposed to the rest of us, who love it so much we choose to do it often on holiday. I also realize you will feel so much lighter afterwards."

"Right again you are, milady. Why is this?"

"I think I was assigned the position with our living quarters. Something like that."

"I would find it annoying were I not so familiar with the quality myself."

"We were discussing Bayard. I will ask him to meet with you."

"As I suppose you should. It will be good to get it over with, at least." He paused for a moment to think. "I do let you push me around, don't I?"

"I only push you to do things you know you should do or want to or both."

"I should hate you," he said. "How odd that I don't."

Casiphia turned his face to hers and kissed him full on the lips.

"Ah. Right. Now I remember."


	5. Warmth

**Chapter 4: Warmth**

_We had a kettle; we let it leak:_  
_Our not repairing made it worse._  
_We haven't had any tea for a week..._  
_The bottom is out of the Universe._  
_~Rudyard Kipling_

Stayne's talk with Bayard went about as well as expected, and both admitted it was good they had put their issues to rest. While they were not likely to become the closest of friends, both at least felt that they needn't go out of their way in the future to avoid the other.

As both encouragement and escape, Casiphia suggested she and her paramour go riding, even taking the risk of going beyond Marmoreal without guards.

"It is so nice to be on horseback again. Although I hope we're not courting danger stealing outside the castle grounds—but I have so missed our rides." Casiphia patted Quill's neck and set off at a canter across open fields, followed by Stayne astride his mount, Brautigan.

Halfway across a meadow lush with lush grass and wildflowers, Casiphia pulled the white mare to a stop and slid to the ground. Ilosovic halted as she threw herself prone onto the grass, after taking off her hat and setting it carefully down beside her. Brautigan turned his head to look at his own rider, who shrugged and joined Casiphia on the grass.

"It's so warm and lovely today," she sighed. "I could spend the entire day like this."

"You would get sunburnt," Stayne cautioned her, at which she reached for her hat and placed it over her face, watching through its weave the silk flowers and ribbons bobbing in the light spring breeze.

But after a few minutes, Casiphia heard a loud "whuff," and the hat was lifted from her face by a pair of large wet lips.

"While we appreciate the sentiment," Quill said softly, "Brautigan and I have been spending a great deal of time in the stables and we would very much like to continue our excursion."

"Oh, Quill, I'm sorry," Casiphia said. "I should have thought of that. Yes, let's go."

After a good hard gallop across gentle hills, they were all ready for a quick rest. When Casiphia finally guided Quill to a stop, they were far from the castle and beyond the mushroom forest. Just beyond a copse of trees they heard voices, and realized where they were.

"It would be polite to say hello," she said.

"It might be better-advised to slip away unnoticed," Stayne observed. "Although they may have discerned our presence by now."

At that Casiphia wheeled her mount around and walked Quill up to the tea table in the clearing. With reservations, Ilosovic brought his steed along behind her, and together they approached the gathering.

"Casiphia!" Alice said from her place at the Hatter's right hand, her face then falling. "And Stayne."

"We were out riding and this is where the horses brought us," said the lady-in-waiting. "So we have come to give you our regards."

Tarrant Hightopp, meanwhile, was regarding the two curiously from under the brim of his hat. "What do you say, fellow feasters? Do we invite them to stay?"

Thackery took the lid off a teapot and buried his face inside it rather than answer, but Mallymkun jumped, literally, to Casiphia's defense. "She can stay, she's the one who outfitted me with my sword." She indicated the embroidery-scissor blade that hung scabbarded at her waist. "The other one, oh, I no longer care what he does."

"How charming," Stayne whispered.

"Oh, pish and posh, old times are past," Tarrant said, with a quick smile in Alice's direction. "Have a seat, join us."

Not entirely certain what they were in for, Casiphia and Ilosovic dismounted, and Casiphia went immediately to Tarrant. "Sugar cubes for the horses?"

"Most assuredly," he replied, handing her the sugar bowl, from which she took several lumps of sugar for Quill and Brautigan.

"It is wise to keep the horses happy," she said as Quill delicately lipped the sugar from her hand.

"And don't forget it," said Brautigan with a flap of his upper lip.

Ilosovic, meanwhile, stood uncomfortably waiting for his lady, who finally returned to his side, took his hand, and led him to the tea table.

"The windmill looks lovely," she said to Tarrant as teacups and plates made their way down the table to them with only minor mishaps. Indeed it did, stonework repaired and blades straight and bright.

A teapot in each hand, the Hatter climbed on the table and took long strides down it to serve tea, knocking over only a few pieces of crockery in the process.

"Does he always do that?" Casiphia asked Stayne.

"Usually, yes. Keep your fingers out of his way. And your plate."

Casiphia pulled her plate out of the way just in time, as Tarrant poured hot tea into her cup from high above her head. Stayne held a cup up with one long arm to reduce the danger of splashes as his own tea was poured.

Then Tarrant marched back to his seat at the other end of the table, and Mally loudly orchestrated the serving of cake and biscuits.

"I have to say, Thackery, you have outdone yourself." Casiphia waved her piece of cake at the hare.

Thackery grinned and bobbed his head at her, before digging in the sugar bowl and lobbing a cube at her head.

"What's that expression-'When in Rome'?" she said to Ilosovic, before picking up a napkin and pitching it back with a mischievous look.

Thackery looked stunned, then threw his head back with a wild cackle. "'When in Rome!'" he shrieked, and tossed a bun at Alice.

And the Battle of the Tea Table was on, as food and crockery sailed through the air, rarely touching their targets, but resulting in laughter all around. Even Stayne was amused at some the antics, and might have lobbed a crumpet or two himself when no one was watching.

* * *

The sunset that night was particularly splendid with its striations of purple and red and gold, and Casiphia and Ilosovic left the books they were reading to watch it from their terrace.

"This is lovely," Casiphia said, "But I would like an even better view. Come, there's a balcony at the top of the castle that will give us a view over most of Marmoreal."

They ran hastily up flights of white marble stairs so as not to miss any more of the sky's transitions than necessary, arriving at the door of the high round tower only to find that they were not the first to have this idea. Silhouetted against the fiery sky was a figure with tufts of exuberant hair flattened in the middle, and another with an absurdly large hat atop her head, which she was holding up with one hand so it would not fall over her eyes.

Casiphia and Stayne could catch only a word here and there, but the low familiarity of the voices and occasional soft laughter were enough to give them the gist of the conversation.

"Oh, come," Casiphia said, tugging at Stayne's sleeve. "This is just eavesdropping. Let's go down a floor; the view will be almost as nice."

"They stole our sunset," Ilosovic said as they started down the stairs.

"I know," she said. "We'll steal their moon some day. Don't think we won't have a chance."


	6. Dueling

**Chapter 5: Dueling**

_In any really good subject, one has only to probe deep enough to come to tears.  
~Edith Wharton_

Alice answered her door the next afternoon to find Casiphia there.

"Mirana tells me that you and I are both in need of sword practice to keep our skills, er, sharp," Casiphia told Alice as she came to the door. "If you are not busy now, I'm free for a bit."

"I see," Alice said. "Do I need to wear anything in particular?"

"No, the dress you have on should be fine. My skirts might be a bit encumbering, but I reckon it's good to practice in the sort of clothing I usually wear."

"Doesn't that get tiring, always having to think of such things?" Alice said as they set off to the throne room to retrieve the vorpal sword.

"Dear heavens, yes, it does," Casiphia said. "But until such time as Underland is completely united again, and Ilosovic is restored to a position of honor, that is my life and I may as well accept it."

Reaching the throne room, Alice crossed it to the suit of armor that held the vorpal sword in its arms, and took the weapon down carefully. It felt natural in her hand, and more than that, as though it were an actual part of her body. Remembering how she had initially resisted wielding it, Alice couldn't help but be surprised at how at ease with the vorpal she was now.

Then it was off to one of the smaller courtyards, where sunlight filtered through the heavy curtain of spring leaves overhead and splashed across the marble paving. There Casiphia led Alice through a series of sword actions, finding that the girl had forgotten some of her maneuvers but was able to pick them up again easily.

"Casiphia, Mirana said I could find you here, and I came to ask you about saddles—" Stayne stopped short at the sight of Alice and the vorpal sword, crossing the courtyard slowly to examine it.

"Alice, I do know this sword. Do you mind if I show you some of the more effective techniques with it that I know?"

Reluctantly, but not wanting to seem impolite, Alice surrendered the sword to Stayne. Complex emotions flickered across his features, triumph turning to regret to remorse to satisfaction. Surprised, she was, when he did exactly what he had offered to do and no more, showing her techniques, breaking each down into its component parts and making sure she could perform them smoothly before moving on to the next.

"Casiphia?" he asked. "Do you want to take a try with the vorpal?"

She shook her head. "You know how I feel about heavy arms," she said. "And I would rather practice with the sword I will be using." She thought for a second. "But I would rather like to hold it—I've never had that opportunity."

Alice handed her the sword and she took a few practice swings with it, then handed it back. "A little piece of history, it is. Or not so little, in any manner, I suppose."

Alice shivered suddenly. "No, Stayne, it's not because of you. Have you noticed how low the sun is getting? And it's cooling off quickly out here."

"True enough," Casiphia said. "I suppose we are finished for the day, then."

The three left the courtyard, and Alice took a side route to return the vorpal sword to its place in the throne room.

"How was that?" Casiphia put a hand upon Stayne's upper arm.

"It affected me more than I expected it to," he said. "I used that sword for many years—although I don't care to remember all the reasons why. It likes Alice, but it liked me too. It's a fine and exquisite bit of weaponry, and I suppose I should be glad I was ever able to get my hands upon it, being just a boy from the village and all."

"A most impressive boy, I have no doubt," Casiphia said. "A very tall blue-eyed boy of bravery and ambition and beautiful competence."

Ilosovic laughed. "I can't say that I've ever heard competence mentioned so glowingly before."

"You weren't engaged to Oran Cottonbaum, or you'd understand."

"He was competent enough when he tried to have us killed, or me, or however he had that planned."

"Trust me, that competence came along rather late in the game. And turned out to be rather useless, for that matter."

"Well, that entire incident did serve to clarify matters," Ilosovic said. "And I do rather like how you wear that Derringer."

* * *

Alice and Stayne finally had their conversation that evening after dinner, in a small audience room not too far from where the courtiers had after-dinner conversation and games. Alice couldn't shake from her mind the idea that she might need to call for help, and she insisted that they talk somewhere she could do so.

"We may as well do this," she said. "And without starting with polite conversation, because that would be pointless and distracting. Ilosovic Stayne, why did you try to make my acquaintance to attempting to seduce me, whether or not you meant it?"

"It always worked before," Stayne shrugged helplessly.

"And then accusing me of unlawful seduction, and then revealing my identity to the queen?"

"I panicked," he said. "Living so closely with Iracebeth made that easy to do. And can you imagine what she would have done if she had thought she was losing the man she loved to a foundling she had taken in? You only think you've seen her in a rage—I really have." His lips pressed together in a tight frown.

"If I had even once suggested that it is better to be loved than feared, I cannot even fathom what would have happened then. Those words, coming from me—I think she might have combusted then and there. Although I wasn't certain which was preferable myself, before the events of last year," he mused, almost to himself, then went on.

"I was certain I could smuggle you out of the castle before anything could happen to you, but when the situation got away from me, it seemed safest to play along until I could figure something out. I was not generally afraid of Iracebeth, but knowing my place was a sure way to ensure my own safety.

Of course I did want the vorpal back, you know that, and I wanted my chance at the Jabberwock. But then you took care of escaping yourself, which I was glad to see, and you know how matters progressed from there."

"I was almost executed!" Alice said, outraged.

"My dear, you would not have been executed. If half of the executions Iracebeth ordered had happened, she wouldn't have had a servant left. And this is even after the death of her husband, who used to creep down and release the prisoners at night. The woman had the attention span of a gnat, despite the size of her head."

"Hmph," said Alice, only somewhat mollified, and certain that Stayne might be mistaken about Iracebeth's intentions towards her.

"Casiphia tries to tell me I don't know you well enough to understand your motivations and she wants me to believe that you had complicated reasons for your actions," she went on. "And that at your core you are an honorable man, although I don't know that I have any reason to believe that."

"I've finally had time to think through what I've done and why," Stayne said. "I didn't have much time for introspection before, what with attempting to keep a step ahead of Iracebeth's demands and avoiding being stabbed in the back by her courtiers and riding herd over those wretched idiot Cards. I tried to be loyal to the person who had been my first love and my closest friend, and to me loyalty meant standing by her, regardless of what she chose to do.

"What would you have done with your life if you hadn't fallen in with Iracebeth?" Alice wondered.

"Nearly the same thing, I suppose. Being an orphan limits a boy's options in that regard, even if he is nearly old enough to take care of himself. I used to imagine being head of the White Guard. We know how that turned out."

Alice was beginning to feel uncomfortable, alarmed at the emotions Stayne was revealing and wondering if she should have started this conversation to begin with. Nothing to be done about it now, of course, so she went on as best she could.

"You've given me quite a bit to think about," she admitted. "But I still don't know what to think of you. I'm going to need some time to mull all this over."

"By all means," he said, sweeping her a sardonic bow.

* * *

Alice had expressed interest in seeing Casiphia's Derringer, so the lady-in-waiting took the girl out on the castle grounds for an impromptu shooting exhibition. Ilosovic accompanied them, ostensibly to keep passersby out of the way, but more in fact to watch Casiphia shoot. He had been surprised at how good her aim was, even though the courtiers practiced their archery regularly, and enjoyed watching her shooting.

He placed a cracked teapot carefully atop a low stone wall and backed out of the way. Casiphia showed Alice how the mechanism of the gun worked and cautioned her to cover her ears, then took aim and fired. The teapot shattered in a most satisfying fashion—and a blue-waistcoated blur burst out from behind the wall and bolted down a nearby path.

"Nivens McTwisp, off like a shot! Are you hightailing it to the castle?" shouted Stayne, chortling at his own joke. Casiphia and Alice exchanged a look, and Casiphia called, "Come over here so I can kick you."

Alice suddenly giggled. "A rabbit gun! Wouldn't that be lovely? You'd fire it and shoot rabbits instead of bullets."

"You could aim it at the front door when someone was knocking—it would be faster than waiting for rabbit staff to run to answer it," Casiphia suggested.

"Or fire it into the kitchens if you were in dire need of tea."

Sensing a presence, Casiphia looked back to find Stayne looming over her shoulder. "I suppose you want me to accept the blame for starting this little exercise," he said into her ear.

"Of course, dear. Isn't that why we brought you along?"

As Stayne shook his head and returned to the wall to collect teapot shards, Alice whispered to Casiphia, "I'm continually surprised at the way you speak to him. And how he never gets angry with you."

"Oh, we figured out those parameters early on, after we had established a level of trust in each other. He said something snarky about something, I said something snarky in response, and away we went. I think he rather appreciates having someone who will speak back to him, but who actually cares for him. I'm afraid that's rather a novelty," she said with a sad smile.

"Here," Stayne said, returning with the bits of broken porcelain and attempting to hand them to Casiphia.

"Oh no, dear, you went to too much trouble to get those. They're yours," she said.

"Alice?" he said, offering her the former teapot.

"No, quite all right," she said.

"Blast," he said. "Never a rabbit around when you need one."


	7. Histories

**Chapter 6: Histories**

_A compliment is something like a kiss through a veil.  
~ Victor Hugo_

"So you've spent a good deal of time in here, I take it," Alice said, looking about the library and its walls and gallery lined with books.

"I have read probably everything here that is not dry and deadly dull, which is perhaps half of what this room contains," Casiphia said from her position atop a tall wooden ladder. "I'm certain I've spent more hours here than any of the other courtiers have, although I will admit a few of those were spent gossiping with Rosalba rather than reading."

"I knew there must be a good reason why Mirana sent me with you to find the history books," Alice said.

"If you want to know about Underland, everything you could want should be here," Casiphia said. "This is the official library of Underland, in fact. Iracebeth wasn't interested in books, so she did not take any of them with her to Saluzen Grum, and we've been able to keep them safe and dry and in beautiful shape here, with a bit of help from Mirana's potion-making.

"And here we are," she continued, pulling down several volumes bound in green leather. "A trifle dusty, but nothing unbearable. These should occupy you for some time, depending on how deeply you want to delve into our history."

Luckily she was facing towards the door, so she was in no danger of being startled and toppling off the ladder when Ilosovic suddenly came into the room.

"You look positively pre-Raphaelite, milady."

"Oh? Ah, yes, the dress," she said from above, looking down at the heavy white brocade gown she had put on that morning, with its long tight sleeves and wide neckline.

"Also the hair," Alice put in.

Casiphia was wearing it uncharacteristically down, with only the sides pulled back and held with a decorative clasp in the back. "Oh, the hair," she sighed. "I didn't feel like wrestling with it today. I must spend half of every morning just trying to get out of its way."

"Which makes it all the lovelier when we do get to see it like this," Stayne said, offering her his hand to help her down the ladder.

"Compliments from one's love are prized," Casiphia said to Alice. "Make certain that you receive your share."

"I do," Alice said, dipping her head shyly.

"Good for you," Casiphia said, smiling as Alice took her armful of books and ducked out of the room to avoid further conversation along those lines.

"Easy to see where that is going, isn't it?" Casiphia said. "I wonder how long it will be till there's a wedding here."

"Wedding," Ilosovic mused. "I wonder..."

"If we are already considered married?" Casiphia finished his thought. "I don't know, it's not something I'd given much thought to in the past, although the thought might possibly have crossed my own mind recently." She pulled a book down from a high shelf, brushed off some dust, and flicked through the pages till she found the information she sought.

"As it turns out," she said, "we are approximately a week away from being common law husband and wife."

"Do you," he paused. "I mean, is this..."

"I am delighted to be your common law wife," she smiled, "And I need no more than that."

"You won't miss the ceremony? The gown?"

Casiphia had to laugh at the last. "Look at what I'm wearing. My position has no lack of beautiful gowns, or for that matter, ceremony."

"I ought at least to have given you an engagement present."

Casiphia's hand went to the silver raven pendant she wore regularly, the one that had belonged to Stayne in his boyhood, which he had given her during a visit to the vacant Red Castle after Iracebeth was deposed. "I believe you did, whether or not we realized it at the time."

She resumed her perusal of the books in front of her, looking for additional volumes of history, while Ilosovic stood behind her, arms around her waist, a smile playing about the corners of his lips.

* * *

That night Ilosovic found Casiphia soaking contentedly in the deep black-marble bathtub she enjoyed so much, submerged to her neck in hot scented water and holding a novel just above the water.

"I came to see if you needed someone to wash your hair for you," he said.

"Oh, by all means," Casiphia said, setting the book aside and relaxing back into his hands as he removed her hairpins one by one and began wetting her locks. "You should sing to me while you do that," she suggested.

"No, no, you do not want me to do that," he said with a hint of a chuckle.

"Oh?" Casiphia said, dropping her head back and regarding him upside down. "You mean I have found something the great Ilosovic Stayne cannot do?"

"I do not sing, I do not swim, I had to give up archery—"

"Archery? Why?" she said, swiveling around to look at him straight on.

Ilosovic tapped his eyepatch, and Casiphia looked away, abashed. "Oh—I'm sorry."

"I'm going to take it as a compliment that you thought I could still shoot. But while I was a good enough swordsman that losing an eye didn't hurt my performance in any way that I couldn't compensate for, I wasn't a good enough archer to make up for the lack of dimension."

"Probably that will never come up again anyway," Casiphia said, the only reassurance she could think of quickly.

"Perhaps," Stayne shrugged. "But to continue on with things I cannot do, I have never been a good chess player, despite what you might think, because I've never had the patience to wait for my opponent to decide upon a move."

"My father will be disappointed," Casiphia said, settling back into the warm water of her bath. "I know he was sorry not to find an opponent in me, but I have the same problem with the game as you."

"Utterly astonishing," said Ilosovic with gravity, at which Casiphia flung a handful of water at him that he didn't quite dodge.

"You'd probably have more success with my hair if you joined me, anyway," she noted. Unable to argue the point, he shed his clothes, slid into the tub as gently as he could so as not to sluice too much water over the edge, and resumed the task of washing his lady love's wavy brown hair.

When she reached for a towel to mop up the puddles on the floor, he stayed her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked her.

"Cleaning up, of course. How rude to leave this for someone else to do."

Ilosovic shook his head. "My dear, this is why there are servants. No, no—" he cut short her protest. "I know you dress yourself unless you're preparing for a formal court event, you lacquer your own nails, which must be unheard of among ladies-in-waiting ("I prefer the way I do it," Casiphia said faintly), and don't think I haven't watched you taking our trays back to the kitchen. Sweetheart, there are people who make their living doing these things for you. There is nothing wrong with allowing them to do so."

"Still, it seems discourteous. And what about damage to the floor?"

"No permanent harm will come from leaving water to sit on a marble floor overnight."

She had to admit that was probably correct, although she still dabbed up a few spots of water before he could take the towel away from her.

"I learned from my mother," she explained. "She was just a girl from the village herself when she met my father and came to live at the castle, before she became a lady-in-waiting.  
She never did get used to the idea someone doing her chores for her."

"She is a very thoughtful woman, then. But that doesn't mean there aren't times when it is appropriate to let someone do things for you. That should be one of the advantages to being a lady-in-waiting, after all."

Casiphia conceded that this made sense.

"Speaking of your father, I must admit, I am still surprised that he accepted me so readily," he said after a bit.

"Well, think of it, after Oran turned up at his door with a plot that could potentially kill his daughter, you would have had to do something particularly reprehensible while you were a guest in their home for him not to bend towards your side. Plus he's always prided himself on being a bit contrary, so you have that in your favor as well."

"Like father, like—" he began, but stopped when Casiphia gave him a stern look over her shoulder.

"And now I do not want to talk about Oran any more," she said firmly. "Not at all now, maybe not ever again. His name has come up more times over the past few days than it has in months, and I am most heartily tired of reliving the past."

"This I understand completely," Ilosovic said, rubbing the back of her neck with both his thumbs, which reduced her to silence for a few moments.

Afterwards, when he had her wrapped in a large soft towel and had another around his waist, he suggested, "Why do we not adjourn to bed?"

"Because now I have wet hair, dear, and that would be pleasant for neither of us. However, if you wanted to keep me occupied while my hair dries, I would not complain. You could read to me, or sing—"

The next sound from her mouth was a shriek as he tumbled her onto the bath rug and tore away the towel. And then wet hair was of minimal significance as they embraced each other next to the tub of cooling water, and puddles of even less.


	8. Conviviality

**Chapter 7: Conviviality**

_The first thing in the human personality that dissolves in alcohol is dignity.  
~Author Unknown_

"We must have fabric here of any sort you might desire," Casiphia said, opening the door to the storeroom. "The colors may be limited, of course, but if you want silk or linen or wool or cotton, we are likely to have a bolt or two of it on hand. If not, Mirana can arrange for some to be sent up from the village."

"I just want some simple dresses and maybe one or two of those long tunics over trousers," Alice said.

"Your antipathy towards corsets is well known," Casiphia smiled, "but do you want any lacing at all in your dresses?"

"Honestly, I would rather not," Alice said. "One of the advantages of being away from the world I grew up in is being able to avoid those conventions. Being able to wear trousers with no one looking askance at me—that is wonderful indeed."

The women set to pulling out prospective bolts of fabric, and soon had a good-sized stack for either Tarrant or a local dressmaker to create the garments Alice needed.

"Here's another blue you might like, and I think this pale brown might suit you well also. And this ivory stripe—you must have something made from this."

Casiphia then considered the bolts of fabric. "This is making me want a new gown or two myself. From the mauve stripe, I think, and this ivory—with black trim. I know this is not likely your favorite pastime, Alice, but see how much fun dresses can be when you have say in their creation right from the beginning."

"I've watched Tarrant sewing," Alice said, "And it's delightful fun."

"Isn't it?" Casiphia agreed. "I don't how he can move so fast and never make a mistake." She flopped down on a stack of bolts and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. "Speaking of Tarrant, have you noticed the changes in him since you returned?"

"Such as?"

"I don't believe he has lapsed into brogue once. And he's wearing fewer bandages on his hands, and I daresay he makes more sense than he used to."

"Surely that has nothing to do with me," Alice said.

"Alice," Casiphia said sternly, and the two burst into laughter.

"You really think that's my doing?"

"I'm absolutely certain of it. Incidentally, what are the boys doing while we entertain ourselves in here?"

"I left them in one of the small libraries. It's still hard for me to imagine that being a good idea, but they insisted they would be fine."

"That sounds like one of those occasions about which it is good not to know overmuch," Casiphia laughed. "Although I'm certain we will hear all too much about it later."

Leaving their fabric choices behind to be collected by staff in the morning, the women set off to retrieve Tarrant and Ilosovic from whatever they had been doing.

Which, as it turned out, was drinking. Profusely. Together.

Two bottles of wine and another of some sort of spirits Casiphia did not recognize were pushed to the center of the small wooden table that sat between two wing-back chairs. In between swigs from a half-filled glass, Tarrant was expounding loudly upon the subject of millinery to a drowsy-looking Ilosovic, who leaned back in his chair and dangled his own glass over the arm almost to the floor.

Suddenly Tarrant blinked twice and collapsed to the floor, for all the world like a dropped marionette.

"Well," Casiphia said. "We have an answer to our question as to what the boys have been doing. Oh goodness. You and I might be able to get Tarrant into his room, but Ilosovic—"she prodded him with her foot—"if you don't get yourself up, you're going to have to sleep in here."

Ilosovic blinked at her for a moment, then heaved a tremendous sigh and lifted himself to his feet, standing straight at first but then listing gradually to one side until he too had slumped to the floor. Within seconds he had begun to snore.

"Fine," Casiphia sighed. "This is just embarrassing. Here, Alice, see if you can get one of Tarrant's arms over your shoulder. I'll do what I can with the other."

On their way out of the room, Casiphia snatched up Tarrant's hat, which had been propped lopsidedly on the back of a chair. "You'll want this, I imagine," she said, handing it to Alice.

Alice was greatly amused by all of this, and soon Casiphia caught her giggles. After they dragged the Hatter to his room—which luckily was on the same floor—they deposited him on an ottoman and Casiphia left Alice there to tend to him. "You realize this is funnier now than it will be in the morning," she cautioned.

"Not to worry, I've seen my sister's husband in this condition enough times to know what to expect," Alice said almost cheerfully.

Returning to the sitting room, Casiphia looked down at Ilosovic, who had made himself horizontally comfortable on the floor.

"My dear, you know I cannot get you up the stairs to our quarters," she told him, but received no answer. With a sigh, she went in search of a blanket, with which she covered him before leaving him there on the carpet, after stuffing a chair cushion under his head.

She couldn't disregard the irony of sleeping alone again with Stayne present in the castle, but at least he was nearby, which took the sting out of the solitude. She was able to appreciate the extra space much more easily, somehow, and stretched out in the center of the bed, for all the world as languid as Chessur.

Until she was wakened close to dawn by Ilosovic slinking into bed, trying not to waken her but failing when he had to slide her to the side to give him enough room to get in.

Too sleepy to concern herself overmuch about his return, she made herself comfortable in her half of the bed, and woke several hours later to find him awake and staring at the ceiling.

"You're alive," she said, doing her level best not to poke fun at him. After all, when she had deliberately downed a bottle of wine in an attempt to erase thoughts of Iracebeth dying at the White Castle of the growth in her head, he hadn't made fun of his love. Although, come to think of it, he hadn't had much opportunity, as they'd been summoned to a meeting with Mirana before she had even properly woken...

"I might survive," he said, still staring upwards.

"I'll procure you some of Mirana's morning-after potion," she offered. "You will be amazed how quickly it will make you feel better."

She propped herself up on one elbow and he turned his head to look at her shamefacedly. "More to the point, what were you and Tarrant getting yourselves up to?"

"I am a bit vague on that point," he admitted. "But I suppose this makes us drinking companions, if nothing else."

"One can do worse," Casiphia said. "I should send some of the potion to him as well. No doubt Alice would appreciate it. With a pot of herbal tea and some very plain biscuits." She gave the bell pull a tug, and pulled the bed curtains fully closed before she went to make her assignments to the kitchen staff.

"One tray to Tarrant, another here," she told the young fox at the door. "Kindness all around, that's it."


	9. Always Another Adventure

A little smut for your New Year's, perhaps? ;-)

**Chapter 8: Always Another Adventure**

_There is a great deal of unmapped country within us.  
~George Eliot_

Do you trust me?" Ilosovic asked, leaning over Casiphia and looking deeply into her eyes.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

"Completely?"

"Yes."

He then showed her what he was holding behind his back—several lengths of thick white silken rope.

"Hold out your wrists," he said.

She did so, feeling a sudden surge of desire so intense it was akin to vertigo as she did so, and as he gently but firmly tied her wrists together.

"Now lie down," he said, his voice hoarse.

She did so, settling herself against the pillows, and he looped the rope around the bed frame and pulled it tight. Casiphia closed her eyes and tried to remember to breathe.

"Milady?" Ilosovic said, concerned. "You are all right?"

Casiphia opened her eyes and smiled. "More than all right," she said. "Carry on, please, carry on."

Stayne then secured each of her ankles to the bed frame, straddled her body and leaned close. "What should I do now?" he said.

"Anything you like, my love," she replied, lifting her hips against him.

"Aaahh," he sighed, unbuttoning his trousers and bringing his phallus to her lips. Casiphia fervently took the shaft into her mouth, sucking, running her tongue up and down its length, feeling the softness of his skin and tasting his flesh, using her mouth to give him all the pleasure her hands could not.

Ilosovic pulled out of her mouth before he could climax, and began working his way down Casiphia's body with tongue and teeth, kissing, tasting, occasionally nipping her just hard enough to make her squeal and pull against her bonds, testing them, but which held tight.

Then he was at the most tender part of her anatomy, continuing to lick and nip. Casiphia's hips pulsed as she came closer and closer to climax, then stopped abruptly as Stayne pulled away from her and grinned, his lower face shiny from her arousal.

"What? Why?" Casiphia cried.

"First, to tease you just a little more," he said. "Secondly, because I want—to be—inside you—when you come." He punctuated each phrase with a thrust inside of her, finally pushing his considerable length as far inside her as he could go and collapsing to his elbows. She peaked within three strokes more, and he was not far behind.

The two lay still for a moment, catching their breath, replete. Then Stayne reached up to the bed frame and freed Casiphia's wrists, then reached down to do the same with her ankles, throwing his arms around her as she did the same to him.

"I've always, er, wanted, um, someone to do that," she told him, feeling unusually shy.

"Oh, really?" Ilosovic said, propping himself up on one elbow and regarding his consort with great interest.

"I do read books, you know."

"We shall have to make a regular event of this then, yes?"

"Yes, we should investigate those, er, marital bonds."

Ilosovic threw back his head and laughed. "We should indeed," he agreed.


	10. Renewal

**Chapter 9: Renewal**

_It is necessary to work, if not from inclination, at least from despair.  
Everything considered, work is less boring than amusing oneself.  
~Charles Baudelaire_

Casiphia rode with Alice to show her the changes that were taking place at the Red Castle on a cool misty morning when the waterfalls were apparent more by their sound than by sight. Ilosovic had left very early that morning to take care of some matters at Saluzen Grum, and the two women were happy to breakfast leisurely and allow him to go on ahead.

As the morning was still cool, Casiphia covered her light dress with her father's old green riding cloak, riding Quill behind Alice, who was perched atop the Bandersnatch.

"I love its gait," Casiphia called to Alice as she watched the Bandersnatch's rolling run from behind, its long tail swinging from side to side.

"It's surprisingly easy to ride up here," Alice called back. "I feel perfectly stable up here, even without a saddle. It's easier than riding a horse, I think."

Casiphia had her doubts about that, but kept them to herself.

Deliberately the lady-in-waiting did not choose a route past the ruins of the old castle where Alice had defeated the Jabberwock. Alice's memories of the place were likely to be disturbing, whereas Casiphia's were rich with the romance of her early days with Ilosovic, not to mention the bittersweetness of her childhood there, and she did not feel inclined to share or try to explain them.

As they approached Saluzen Grum, Alice could see for herself the changes that had so quickly overtaken the landscape. Tangles of green covered the hillsides, and the grass in the valleys was lush and bright. Everywhere wildflowers bobbed their bright heads, attended by all manner of insects, and animals occasionally stood up and waved to the pair and their mounts. Alice was particularly charmed by the badger in the cravat who called, "Good day!" from the mouth of his burrow.

"I'd like to say hello to Ilosovic when we get inside, if you do not object," Casiphia said to Alice as they arrived at the castle entry—no guards greeted them, and the drawbridge was permanently fastened down—and a frog leaped from the water to bid hello to Casiphia. "Hello, Ribbert!" she called back.

A stable boy ran out to greet them and take their mounts, looking nervous at the sight of the Bandersnatch but refusing to let fear keep him from performing his duties.

"I'm going to show you the gardens first," Casiphia told Alice, "because they're my responsibility and I'm rather proud of what we're accomplishing."

Indeed there was little sign of the Red Queen's formal layout, which had been replaced by a wilder sort of garden with far more varieties of flower than just roses. Bowers and alcoves invited passersby to linger, while small ponds glinted throughout the grounds and trellises adorned the castle walls.

"No more topiaries," Alice noticed.

"No, we invited some of the children from the court to come in and hack them apart," Casiphia said. "They especially had fun dismantling Iracebeth's head. I know, I know, that is terrible, but I thought they deserved some catharsis after living their entire lives under her rule."

They crossed a patch of grass to a bed of rosebushes. "Here, let me show you my favorite color," Casiphia said.

Plucking one, she handed it to Alice, who said, "How unusual, the petals are white on the outside and red on the inside. And they're so thick, the colors barely show through."

"You can see why I like the symbolism," Casiphia said, looking almost embarrassed. "But isn't that a fabulous rose, regardless?"

"It is indeed," Alice said. "I quite like those lavender ones at the end, myself."

"Take a few," Casiphia said. "These are not talking flowers, and the bushes won't mind. I expect there to be hundreds more blooms before next winter."

Alice snapped several of the blossoms off their stems, while Casiphia, spying a shriveled and spiny-topped rosehip still clinging to a stem from the previous winter, broke it off into her own hand. "You'll see," she told Alice, who was watching her curiously. Then the two women progressed across the grounds to the castle, Casiphia stopping once to speak quickly with a short, rotund man in a large hat, who carried a large pair of secateurs in one hand.

"My main gardener," she mused. "I have a gardener! I never would have thought."

Continuing up the cobblestone path that led to the castle, they entered through the main doorway, finding a crew of workers busily scrubbing windows and walls. "The stained glass is so beautiful, I couldn't bear the thought of it being destroyed," Casiphia explained to Alice. "I reckon if we make enough changes to the rest of the building, the presence of the windows will not be off-putting."

Casiphia led Alice down a long corridor that fed off the throne room, stopping at a storeroom that had been turned into a large office for Ilosovic Stayne and other administrative staff. There they found Stayne with his tall black boots propped up on a desk, pen and sheaf of paper in his lap as he jotted notes.

"Comfortable?" Alice asked him.

"Extremely," he said, but swung his feet down and scooted his chair up to the desk.

"Oh!" Alice suddenly exclaimed in delight. "There's a raven. On your writing desk! Maybe that's what they have in common—they're both here."

"There is always at least one raven here. They like me," Ilosovic shrugged. "Or else they like this room. I can't explain it." The raven, which had been preening, cocked its head to look at him. Then it fluttered up to his shoulder and had the affrontery to peck at his eyepatch.

"Shoo!" he said, startled. "Cheeky bugger." He waved the raven aside, and it obliged by hopping back down to the desk and settling perhaps two inches away from its previous perch.

"This was a storeroom for all sorts of effects Iracebeth no longer had use for," Casiphia explained to Alice. "Most of those were taken when the castle was ransacked after her downfall, but as you can see, there were a few old pictures and tapestries left that were worth hanging."

"What happened to the members of the Red Court?" Alice wondered.

"I suppose they slunk off back home to pretend they'd never been a part of this menagerie," Stayne said. "What happened to them there, I do not know, but I rather hope their families are more disinclined to overlook their dishonesty than Iracebeth was.

"I do know that two travelers closely matching the description of the executioner and his wife settled in Queast oddly close to Iracebeth's last day as queen."

"So he escaped punishment altogether, is that what you're telling me?"

"So I gather, and his chess partner, the cook, turned up there a week or so later. He really wasn't such a bad sort, just not one to think for himself. But yes, that would seem to be the case."

"That sickens me a little," Casiphia said sadly. "I realize you did provoke Mirana just a wee tiny bit when she was sending her sister into exile, but that just proves all the more to me that she acted out of anger and spite and not justice."

"Look at me," Stayne said. Casiphia did so, and he continued. "You know the expression 'all is well that ends well'? Perhaps it's for the best that I did not slink away and settle in Queast with our friend the executioner, don't you think?"

"You could be right about that, " Casiphia said, taking his hand and pressing a kiss into it.

Uncomfortable overhearing this exchange, Alice was drifting around the room, examining the hangings and objets d'art. Ilosovic started to add commentary, but stopped cold as Casiphia slipped behind him and dropped the rosehip she had brought inside down the back of his shirt. The raven squawked in delight as he sat bolt upright and began pawing at his back, trying to get a grasp on the mysterious object.

"Why, you..." he said, grabbing Casiphia's arm and pulling her down into his lap.

"You love it when I tease you, and you know it," she said, planting a kiss full on his lips.

"Is this what you're like when you're happy?" he asked.

"It would seem so," she said.

"Good, I like to see it. What was that, anyway?" he said, toppling his lady out of his lap and standing to shake the offending object out of his shirt. "Ah, a rosehip. I suppose I should be grateful it wasn't a dormouse."

He resumed his seat. "Now, out of here, both of you!" he ordered. "You are distracting me and I would like to get through these accounts today so I don't have to return here tomorrow."

Casiphia laughed and ruffled his hair. "Come on Alice, let us be on our way."

"First, tell me why you have an old divan in your—ohhh," Alice said as bits of information she had gleaned from both Casiphia and others came together in her head.

"You look a bit shocked," Casiphia observed. "Can I, er, put you at ease somehow?"

"I'm feeling somewhat...ill at ease with some of this, er, freedom," Alice said. "Where I'm from, these things are not done, or at least no one admits to knowing about them."

"Things are a bit upside down here, it must seem," Casiphia said. "You may learn to appreciate that. Here in the castle, in particular, we don't have the plethora of rules of conduct that seem to govern activities aboveground. For instance, those trousers you favor—I gather they would not be considered appropriate wear in your world, but here no one has any objection to a woman choosing to wear what she is comfortable in.

"There might be some who would say Ilosovic and I began our courtship backwards, but no one has judged us adversely for it—not for that, at any rate, although some may have had their share of problems with him in particular—and that bit of madness has not kept us from learning what we need to know about each other and how to treat each other.

"I'm sure that however you and Tarrant are ordering your romantic concerns, it will be the right way for the two of you to govern your affairs."

"This is exactly what I mean!" Alice cried. "Does everyone know everything?"

"You learn the ways of inhabiting a castle," Stayne said without looking up. "Be grateful that the gossip at Marmoreal is essentially harmless, unlike the gossip here which was mainly a means to curry favor or further competition."

Alice looked disgusted at the thought, which Casiphia found entirely appropriate. "We are mostly well-meaning and kind," she told the girl. "Admittedly, one sometimes has a nasty discovery, as I did with that wretched Oran, but behavior like his is not acceptable and may result in the departure of the guilty party. All the courtiers and much of the staff have grown up together, and we have worked out most of the complaints and aggressions over the years. Our job is to be friends to Mirana, and we cannot be that if we are not gentle and courteous among ourselves as well."

"Not that they don't get up to a fair bit of mischief. And throw things when they cannot think of a better way to express themselves," Ilosovic cautioned. Casiphia flipped a blotter at him to prove the point, which he neatly dodged. The raven wheeled off the desk with a caw of alarm, then settled back on the far corner of the desk.

"You mean it's not just—"

"Not just Thackery, oh no, not by any means. Get used to that, Alice, or your life with Tarrant and his cronies will be a difficult one indeed."

"I suppose I should practice my aim," Alice mused.

"I believe you will do just fine," Casiphia promised her. "But you can practice here if you like."

"Out, I said!" Stayne reminded them, and with one last snicker, they left him to his accounts. 


	11. Illusion of Safety

**Chapter 10: Illusion of Safety**

_Who can hope to be safe? who sufficiently cautious?  
Guard himself as he may, every moment's an ambush.  
~Horace_

"I'm especially proud of this room," Casiphia told Alice. "It's going to be a museum. If we can get some of the townspeople to return the paintings and sculptures they took from here when Iracebeth was exiled, it will be even more impressive. If not, it's still better that they're enjoyed, rather than being destroyed."

From there they visited the future library ("Although we will still keep the official histories at the White Castle," Casiphia said. "We can't risk any of Iracebeth's enemies causing them any harm.") and the ballroom that would be available for anyone in Underland who wanted to hold a large event.

"And this entire wing will be a tavern, with rooms upstairs for travelers," Casiphia said. "People like me might be willing to ride the entire land without stopping, at least if they have horses like Quill, but the opportunity to stop for the night in safe and luxurious surroundings would have to be a temptation for anyone."

She ducked behind a long counter and returned with two cups of foaming golden liquid.

"It's a very lovely local ale," she explained, taking a sip and licking off the foam mustache that resulted.

"I've never had ale before," Alice said. "My experiences have all been with wine or cordial. This is rather nice."

"Wine and cordial are castle drinks as well," Casiphia said. "Now that I've discovered this ale, I may spend more time here." She winked. "But whatever Tarrant and Ilosovic were drinking the other night—that I have no desire to cross paths with, thank you."

Finishing their drinks, they left the cups on the bar and went on.

"By the way," Casiphia said, "Should you ever have a craving for red wine, as opposed to the white wine that is all we have on hand at Marmoreal, we have turned the dungeons here into an expansive wine cellar. I believe we will have some impressive vintages on hand here before long."

Leaving the tavern wing, they crossed a courtyard and entered another wide hall.

"I think this will just be a room for staff, or anyone who is acting as staff for a party or an event or somesuch," Casiphia said as they peered into a room full of chairs and tables and divans. "This furniture doesn't all need to be here, but for the time being, this is where it has come to rest. Rather like that cat, there."

Alice looked to see the snoring form of Chessur tucked into the corner of an overstuffed chair.

"We should let him sleep," she said. "Cats do require a lot of rest."

"There are still many, many rooms here that we have no idea what to do with," Casiphia whispered as they went back out into the hallway. "It may be years before we are finished here, but I don't see that as a problem. It means we can entertain ideas as we have them, or as they are brought to us."

The women made their way down a long curved staircase to the lower floors. "I suppose we might want to go back to the castle now, if you don't mind," Casiphia said. "It takes a while for courtiers to dress for dinner. And if there's anyone you want to, er, talk to, you might have a chance to do so."

Alice raised her eyebrows at Casiphia, who looked into the distance in all innocence. Unfortunately, this feigned distractedness led to her walking to the stables without paying attention, and in between Quill and the Bandersnatch as the stable boy accidentally walked them past, startling them.

"Quill, over here!" Casiphia said, lunging at her horse, and managing to insert herself underneath the Bandersnatch's claws as it wheeled in surprise.

"Oh, Casiphia, I know how much that hurts," Alice said, examining the wound with concern. "You can let the Bandersnatch lick it, that will heal it."

"It still looks nervous, I don't want to get that close to it," Casiphia said. "I'm going to go look for Chessur."

Holding her cloak to the bleeding scratches, she returned to the castle and made her way to the office.

"What happened to you?" Stayne said, leaping up from his work.

"The Bandersnatch and Quill startled each other and I got too close," she said through gritted teeth. "No, don't be angry, it was an accident. Just help me find Chess and we can get this taken care of."

"Someone get me that blasted cat!" Ilosovic strode off down the corridors, shouting for Chess, as gardeners and workers and Alice all gathered around to see what had happened and make sure that Casiphia would be all right. Chessur took his time apporating, but sterilized Casiphia's scratches with alacrity.

"Ouch, that hurt quite a bit at first," she said. "But it must be healing already because now I just feel a rough cat tongue."

Chess winked at her. "Bandersnatch wounds are one of the best things about being a Cheshire Cat."

"I wonder if the two of you are in cahoots," Casiphia grumbled.

"I would recommend to both that they not be," Ilosovic said.

"They're quite protective of each other," Chess noted to Alice. "Also very well-armed."

"I'd imagine so, from everything I've seen," the girl replied.

"Now I'm grumpy and ready to go home," Casiphia said.

"I'm coming with you," Stayne said. "The accounts can wait. "

"I doubt I really need your protection," Casiphia said. "But I will admit that I would like it. Thank you."

"What else can I do to help?"

"Hmm, you can kiss me senseless. But perhaps not now," she said, looking around the room at the audience that had gathered.

"We'll get you back home, then," Ilosovic said. "Alice, are you coming with us?"

"That depends on how Casiphia is feeling about seeing the Bandersnatch," she replied. "I'm guessing it can get me back to Marmoreal without getting lost."

"No, come with us," Casiphia said. "I'm not upset with the Bandersnatch, and the better my arm feels, the less inclined I am to avoid it. I need to make sure Quill isn't feeling traumatized, anyway."

Quill, as it turned out, was a bit shaken but not in any way from which she wouldn't recover given a bit of time. Brautigan was distracting her with conversation when the humans arrived at the stables, and altogether it was a congenial group that made its way back to Marmoreal, if one that was a bit more alert to accidents than before. Privately, Stayne thought this was likely a good thing.


	12. Consanguinity

**Chapter 11: Consanguinity**

_Light, so low in the vale  
You flash and lighten afar,  
For this is the golden morning of love,  
And you are his morning star.  
Flash, I am coming, I come,  
By meadow and stile and wood,  
Oh, lighten into my eyes and heart,  
Into my heart and my blood!  
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson_

"Happy wedding day," Ilosovic said to Casiphia as she opened her eyes.

"Oh, my, yes," she mumbled with a sleepy smile.

"Would you like your wedding present, or would you rather sleep some more?"

"Mmm...present. Definitely present. But oh! I don't have anything for you."

Ilosovic produced a flat white box with a silver ribbon from the side of the bed. "Don't worry, my love, this gift is for both of us."

Giving him a suspicious glance, Casiphia untied the bow, opened the box, and withdrew the piece of apparel that lay nestled in tissue paper within.

"It's beautiful," she said, caressing the material and lifting the garment up to the light. "And—practically transparent."

"Yes, I specifically asked Tarrant to use this fabric," he said.

Casiphia reddened. "You asked Tarrant to make this for me? He designed this thinking of me?"

Stayne burst into laughter. "No, dearest, I went to the seamstress in the village that my mother used to commission her dresses from. But I decided whatever you threw at me for telling you that would be worth the look on your face."

"Throw something at you? You wound me," Casiphia said, surreptitiously pushing the box lid off the bed from where she had been concealing it behind her back pursuant to lobbing it at her lover's head.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. It's beautiful, it really is. And I love you and you are beautiful too."

"As are you. And I love you dearly as well."

The embrace that followed was interrupted by a knock at the suite's outer door.

"Did you arrange for breakfast here?" Casiphia asked.

"I should have, but no, I did not. I will go see who is knocking."

He returned with a tray holding a bottle of sparkling deep amber cordial and a small but elaborate cake, accompanied by a white card embossed with only a silver crown.

"Cake for breakfast?"

"Cake for breakfast, absolutely, especially when it's a gift from the queen. It seems today is a special occasion," he said.

They had eaten their way through approximately half the cake—it was one of Thackery's more tempting creations—when they heard another knock. Casiphia went to the sitting room to answer the door, and found a weasel standing there with a sizable bouquet.

"Purple and yellow, tactful choice," Ilosovic said. "Who are they from?"

"They're Hearts-ease," she said. "That's lovely. And they're from Alice."

"Now that is a surprise," he said.

"It looks like she's getting used to at least the idea of you," Casiphia twinkled.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with the exception of another bouquet of flowers, this time a profusion of orange and pink tulips and lilies, arriving at their quarters with a note of congratulations from Casiphia's parents. "Can't put anything by them, can you?" Stayne said.

"And another thoughtful color choice," Casiphia noted. "I would be happy with white and red, honestly, but it's kind of people to avoid any connotations they think might be awkward."

They assumed that was the end of recognitions of their new state, but when Casiphia and Stayne went to dinner that night, they found themselves showered in white petals as they passed through the door.

"I blame you!" Casiphia called to Rosalba, who did her best to look innocent of all knowledge of such preparations, this being difficult when she was laughing with such glee.

"Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous," Casiphia said to Stayne, "but it looks to me like you might be considered a part of this household now."

Ilosovic was shaking his head as if to knock something loose. "I suppose you need never worry that I will take you for granted, because I cannot even fully countenance that this is my own life."

"Someday you will be accustomed to it," Casiphia said, tucking his arm under her own and processing with him into the dining hall. "And that is a day I am looking forward to."

The applause that greeted them was embarrassing to both, which of course only inspired the guests at dinner to continue it for longer than they might have. Eventually Mirana stood at her place at the head of the table, and the uproar subsided.

"To Casiphia and Ilosovic," she said with a graceful bow of her head. "May you have a happy and fulfilling life together."

Ilosovic finally gave in, got to his feet dragging Casiphia with him, and bowed to his audience. She waved self-consciously, but couldn't help laughing.

"There we are, then," she said when dinner had finally commenced and conversations were at least nominally back to normal. "We seem to be married. Perhaps we should throw a party for our supporters."

"I am not even going to acknowledge that you said that. All I want now is my dinner and possibly a glass of wine, and then to take you back to our quarters and have my way with you."

"Spoken like a true bridegroom," Casiphia said. "And I concur wholeheartedly, as a proper bride should."

"Didn't you have something you wanted to wear for me tonight?"

"Did I?" she teased.

"Just you wait," he said.

"Mmm. Promise?"

"Promise."

After that exchange, it wasn't long before they made their excuses and left the dining table. As they left the hall, Nivens McTwisp rushed to catch Casiphia on the way out.

"I can only assume you know what you are doing, milady," he whispered to her. "And I am most pleased to see you happy. Although if he's going to be a permanent part of the household, I don't suppose you could keep him out of the kitchens? He is going to give poor Thackery paroxysms."

"Thank you, Nivens, for your kindness," Casiphia answered. "But keeping Ilosovic out of the kitchens is beyond my powers, or anyone's. I'm afraid Thackery will simply have to get used to his presence."

"All I could do was ask," Nivens said, bowing and taking his leave. From across the room, the March hare's ears were visible over the table top, drooping as he took in the news.

* * *

Casiphia and Stayne had shared many a romantic night, so far was it from him to neglect any of the details she appreciated. Rose petals, candles, sparkling wine—all the elements Casiphia could not help but respond to in this context were present, and their coupling no less complete.

Stayne stood afterwards to stretch (much to Casiphia's appreciation), and she rolled to his side of the bed, picking up the long crooked-bladed knife he habitually carried from the bedside table where he had discarded it that evening. Idly she dragged the blade up her body, stopping with the point between her breasts.

Looking up to see Ilosovic watching her, the pupil of his eye dilated widely with interest, she handed him the knife. "You can, if you like."

"No, I—" he stopped at the look on her face. "You mean that."

"I do," she said.

He reclined next to her on the bed and pressed the tip of the knife gently against her sternum. Then he met her eyes again, and she nodded, and he pressed the point just a bit harder.

The blade was so sharp she felt nothing but its coldness for a moment, and by the time the cut began to sting, it was welling with a dark drop of crimson blood which Stayne bent his head to catch with his tongue. Casiphia closed her eyes and felt her breath catch.

"Here," she heard, and opened her eyes to see him handing her the knife.

"No, I couldn't," she protested.

"Of course you can. And I want you to. What's the worst that can happen—I end up with another scar? At least this one would have a far more pleasant memory connected with it than the others."

He presented his forearm to her, and with trepidation she touched the tip of the knife to his skin. "Harder, my love," he said, and press harder she did, until she saw a drop of blood akin to her own upon his arm. She brought his arm to her mouth and tongued the drop from it. And then his mouth was upon hers, and the kiss was like nothing she had ever imagined, tasting of blood and passion and love and renewal.

Later, as they lay in the darkness in each other's arms (after Casiphia had made the expected protests about leaving blood spots on the bed, to which Ilosovic had replied that surely the staff had encountered worse, and they would not know the provenance of these stains anyway), Casiphia's sense of the absurd returned.

"It's good that wasn't a serrated knife, that would have hurt more."

"I wouldn't carry a serrated knife, it's not efficient," Stayne responded. "What? It's the truth."

"The things I learn from you," she said.


	13. The Buttered Side of the Bread

**Chapter 12: The Buttered Side of the Bread**

_Everything's got a moral if only you can find it.  
~Lewis Carroll_

The queen used her considerable powers of organization and charm to rapidly arrange a Frabjous Day Remembrance ceremony to commemorate both that day and Alice's return, one which most of the kingdom was anticipating eagerly.

Ilosovic Stayne, however, was experiencing a renewal of the feelings of reluctance he had had so often his first days at Marmoreal.

"Frabjous Day changed your life too, you know, and for the better, once those little, er, adjustments were worked out," Casiphia reminded him.

"I suppose you are right about that—what? Of course you are right about that.  
Perhaps thinking of this day as my own private marking of a new beginning will make it more palatable."

"Also, your presence at this will make it easier for some of these people to accept you. And it will be a wonderful party, with food and dancing—you know how I love to dance with you—and stealing away into quiet corners..."

"Very well, very well, you've convinced me," he laughed. "Just permit me to make a quiet exit if I feel the need at any time."

Casiphia was a near-personification springtime in a gown of pale green with silver ribbons and trim, matching parasol, jewelry of marcasite and pearl, and of course her court wig with its white ringlets. She had coaxed Ilosovic into a white shirt for the event, although it was the gift of the white silk cravat she had embroidered for him that was the deciding factor. There was time for one final kiss before she applied her dark lip stain ("Ha ha, lip stain," she said to Ilosovic, poking him in the ribs, a pointless endeavor as he was not ticklish in the least), and off to the fete they went.

Mirana had arranged for pavilions of white silk to be raised around the grounds, and under each was a table with food or drink. Musicians played in bowers as courtiers and villagers and people who had traveled from every corner of Underland mingled and celebrated the renewal of their land.

After the official court procession with the queen into the gardens, Casiphia scanned the crowd for Ilosovic, finding him quickly—she did appreciate that he was easy to locate in a crowd. Greeting him, she put her fingers on his silk sleeve where she knew the tiny cut was from the night before.

"Lucky for you I have some sense of decorum and am not drawing attention to the corollary," he said. Her fingers went instinctively to her sternum, and she smiled.

"We can save that for later," she winked, and drew him through the crowd to where a group of courtiers was trading quips.

Ilosovic did his best to chat cordially with one and all, and accepted congratulations and a hearty thump on the back from the Hatter when the two crossed paths. Casiphia couldn't help smiling; this day was all she could have asked, more than she would have ever expected even the winter before, and she expected it to get better still.

Approaching him quietly, Mirana drew Stayne aside and asked him softly, "How is she doing? In your honest estimation."

"She still has nightmares from time to time, and I know her thoughts still go to dark places on occasion. But look at her." They turned to watch Casiphia, who was standing with her friends, laughing and taking part in what seemed to be particularly clever banter. "I am not sure I have ever seen her like that. It's hard to imagine that she won't be absolutely fine."

"Then you make sure of that," Mirana said with a wink of a silvery lid, drifting back off into the crowd of her subjects and supporters.

Before long the crowd grew silent as Mirana pushed Alice up onto a dais and announced that she had some words for them all.

Alice, looking as if this speech weren't entirely her own idea, looked around at the crowd, and at last broke into a smile.

"The last time I was here was so different," she declaimed. "I wasn't convinced any of you were real for the longest time, and then when I knew you were, I found myself in battle with the Jabberwock."

At this the crowd burst into wild applause, and Alice looked embarrassed until the excitement subsided. "It's been hard for me to be divided between two worlds. But I finally feel like I've found the one that's my real home. I hope you will all be as happy to have me here as I will be to join you."

The applause was even louder and wilder at this. Mirana stepped up on the dais and gave Alice an embrace, and suddenly the Hatter was there too, planting an enthusiastic kiss on Alice's lips, prompting howls from the crowd.

"Our champion!" Mirana shouted over the noise. "Do make her welcome!"

After this there was dancing—Casiphia and Ilosovic, as always, comporting themselves with grace and style (and comments made too quietly for anyone else to hear)—and more treats and libations, and general festivity. As the sun grew lower in the sky and a cool breeze began to stir over the castle grounds, the queen's subjects began gradually taking their leave to return home to rest and talk over the events of the day.

Mirana found Stayne and Casiphia near one of the food pavilions, and with a tug at his sleeve, she pulled him aside again. Expecting another question about Casiphia, he was utterly gobsmacked when Mirana said, "Ilosovic Stayne, I have seen enough of your true character now to feel comfortable in asking you this. Would you care to take on the training of the youth who come to the castle to learn swordsmanship?

"It seems too soon to offer you any sort of position with my guard. But if matters continue as they have, and if my lady-in-waiting supports you and believes in you as she has, I believe that might be something to consider for the future."

Stayne swallowed hard, wondering if Mirana were about to shriek, "Just teasing!" and dart off into the crowd. But she did not, merely looked at him with her large dark eyes expectant.

"Well...yes, your majesty," he finally choked out. "I would like that very much."

"Good," the queen smiled. "I believe that as you were once one of those youth, you will remember what it was like being new here, and you will know what it is they need to learn to be of service here.

"You do know that I will be watching you, of course," she cautioned. "I presume that my trust in you will not be unfounded."

"No, not at all," he said. "I fell into too many unfortunate accidents over the years not to appreciate my good fortune now. I would not take advantage of your faith and generosity."

"Very good, then," Mirana smiled. "You should go and tell your lady the news."

And so he did, with the benefit of seeing her smile even more brilliantly than he had earlier that day.

* * *

"I never knew life could come together like this," he said to her that night as they watched the moon rise from their terrace. "Not my life, at any rate. I'd certainly seen it happen to others, and it did not make me feel any more content with my own."

"Fortune and effort and a good heart," Casiphia said. "That is all I can guess.

"But don't worry, I promise to keep your good heart a secret. The rest of the world will have to discover that on its own."

Ilosovic laughed. "My lady, my love, my confidante."

"For always," she replied.

**~ fin ~**


End file.
